Good Comes To Those Who Wait
by Stevie92
Summary: This is my creative interpretation on how the series should end


The late March breeze was crisp as it danced amongst the trees. The air was sweet, and besides the rustling of the leaves it was silent. She doesn't come here nearly as much as she'd like to, the memories hurt too much. It's become easier though. Time tends to do that, help us heal. She can't quite pin point the exact moment when the suffocating pain became but a dull ache but she feels lighter now. She smiles again, and past memories bring fondness rather than tears. It wasn't an easy journey by any means, but thanks to some special people around her she's back to feeling like herself again, perhaps not completely but she's getting there.

Her pace is poised but vigorous. The repetitive click of her heels on the footpath echo in her ears almost as a distraction to the weight residing in her pocket. Her heart seems to want to break free from her rib cage but she has much more important things to focus on than that. Trees and fellow path users become nothing but blurred space. She silently thanks her feet for knowing where to lead her since her mind clearly thinks direction isn't an important thing to currently concentrate on.

She notices the re-growth is a lot thicker then she remembers. It must have been a while since she was last here. The corners of her lips turn down at that and she makes a mental note to visit more. Her hands idly caress the white rose she brought, aiding as a distraction as she crouches down. One hand breaks free and begins to trace the letters on the stone in front of her.

She must appear as a girl on a mission, face hard with determination and eyes set for one thing, and one thing only. People move out of her way, which is good because she's pretty sure she'd walk through them if she had to. She's done a lot of thinking lately. It's funny how you can always know something, or at least think that you do, and then one day you suddenly realize it's true significance. How obvious the answer is to a question you weren't even aware you were asking. It certainly makes her question her past-self's intelligence level. She's approaching the Hall's entrance now. This is happening. Today everything changes.

Sitting in the grass her mind begins to drift off. She thinks about her life now; her friends who she adores, whom she's confident truly adore her back. She appreciates quality over quantity, and it's heartwarming to know she's managed to grow such amazing bonds with some people her younger high-school self would never have guessed in a million years would become like her family. She thinks about her apartment, an oasis full of her life's accomplishments thus far which has only recently begun to feel like a home again. It was always like a safe haven, and she's glad to have that back. She thinks about her job and how happy it makes her. To be proud of what she does, and elated that it's exactly where she wants to be. "Are you proud of me?" she wonders, but hears no reply.

Entering the foyer her mind replays her busy morning. The hectic journey it took to get here, including the creep that sat next to her and leered far too long to be at all socially acceptable. Cringing, she turns left and heads towards the hallway that will lead her backstage. She didn't even bring anything with her, just jumped into the first taxi she could flag down and came here. To an outsider her actions might appear a little frantic, a tad rash, but time could never quell how she felt, nor distance or any other obstacle that could come in her way. She could be doing this now, next week, or next year and it wouldn't change the fact that _she_ was what she wanted, it was always her, it would always be her, and if she couldn't have her she didn't want anyone else, there never was nor could ever be anyone else.

Gently placing the rose down and wiping the lone tear that managed to escape, she takes one last look of the name as she rises to her feet. FINN HUDSON stares back at her. Slowly turning around a soft smile starts to play on her lips, her expression morphing into a much gentler, happier one. Waiting patiently, Quinn smiles back with a look of pure love.

She spots her the moment she approaches the risers. She's so happy, and every bit as beautiful as she can remember. The 'Brittany Code' has become internationally acclaimed and later tonight, on this stage, they're going to present her with an award. Her heart soars at the notion that the world finally sees the genius she always saw, no words could describe the pride and love she feels for her in this moment. Taking a deep breath she begins to move forward, not even realizing she had stopped in the first place. She doesn't find it surprising though, Brittany could always stop her in her tracks and take her breath away. As she moves closer Brittany finally sees her. Her face is a mixture of surprise and excitement with a hint of confusion. Santana stops in front of her, and before she has a chance to say anything she's crouching down on one knee and pulling a ring out of her jacket pocket. Looking up she nervously smiles, her eyes saying everything, asking everything, offering all that she has and all that she is. Brittany, suddenly shy pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly nodding as a smile begins to take over her face.

Quinn tenderly moves towards Rachel, lifting a hand to gently brush the remnants of a tear away with her thumb. She softly kisses her nose once before pulling her into a protective embrace. They had been over for a while before it had happened. He was her first friend and although she hasn't been in love with him for a very long time she'll always love him. 'At least something good has come from this' she thinks bitter-sweetly, tightening her hold against the blonde. Feeling the security and love that she was foolishly too blind to notice in the past; Rachel closes her eyes and listens to the steady heartbeat of her Quinn.


End file.
